Ghostly Visions: A Harper Harlow Mystery Books 10-12

by Lily Harper Hart

  “As far as I’m concerned, everything turned out exactly how I wanted it to turn out,” she continued. “Carl had a reputation for sleeping with clients, but I told him that was off the table from the start. He was fine with that as long as he got his payment. That’s all there was to it.”

  “Okay, well ... we might have more questions at a later time.” Mel’s gaze was heavy when it locked with his partner’s conflicted orbs. “For now, we’re going to question David and see what he has to say.”

  “Oh, I would love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.”

  DAVID WAGNER WAS A CPA AT an accounting firm in New Baltimore. Jared and Mel headed to his office right after wrapping up their interview with Cheryl. Both of them were flummoxed by the turn of events.

  “How was Harper last night?” Mel asked as they exited the cruiser in the parking lot. “Did she ask questions about her mother?”

  “Yeah, but I deflected them as much as possible.”

  “You don’t want to tell her the truth?”

  “That her mother is a murder suspect? No, I don’t want to tell her that.”

  “I think you should.”

  “And I think you should mind your own business.” Jared fought hard to tamp down his anger. “It will upset her.”

  “Harper is a big girl.” Mel wasn’t the sort to back down under normal circumstances and he certainly wasn’t going to start now. “It will be better for her over the long haul if you tell her the truth now.”

  “There is no truth to tell. Her mother isn’t our prime suspect right now.”

  “She’s not,” Mel agreed. “I don’t want you focusing on David Wagner to the detriment of common sense to make sure that stays true, though. Can you promise me that?”

  Jared was offended. “Do you really think I would frame a guy to keep Harper happy?”

  “I think there’s very little you wouldn’t do to protect Harper. You can’t save her from this if Gloria is a murderer, though. You have to realize that.”

  The problem was, Jared realized exactly that. The realization was eating at him. “We don’t know anything yet,” he pointed out. “There’s no sense getting her worked up until we have an actual direction to look.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Well ... I say so.”

  Jared was morose as he followed his partner into the building. It was a three-story brick facade with multiple windows and zero personality. The detectives stopped at the front desk to talk to the secretary, who was young and blonde. She batted her eyelashes at Jared as they waited for David to come to the lobby to collect them.

  “You live in Whisper Cove?” she asked.

  Mel knew she wasn’t talking to him, but he answered anyway. “We do.”

  “I’ve always liked Whisper Cove. It’s ... cool.” She twirled a strand of hair around her finger as she regarded Jared with flirty eyes. “What do you do in Whisper Cove for fun?”

  Jared was in no mood for games. “Spend time with my fiancée.”

  “Oh.” Disappointment practically flowed off the young woman in waves. “That’s a bummer.”

  “Not from my perspective.”

  Thankfully for both men, David picked that moment to save them from an unfortunate conversation. He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes, and he seemed confused why the police would want to see him.

  “Can I help you?”

  “David Wagner?” Mel asked, flashing his badge.

  “Yes.”

  “We’re with the Whisper Cove Police Department. We have a few questions to ask you regarding your relationship with Carl Gibbons.”

  Surprise washed over David’s features — and a momentary glint of hatred — but he recovered quickly. “I see. Um ... come into my office.” He flicked his eyes to the blonde. “Sassy, hold my calls.”

  The girl shot him a withering look. “Whatever you say, Mr. Wagner.”

  Jared had no doubt that Sassy — seriously, who named their kid that? — was the secretary Cheryl mentioned when talking about her husband’s affair. They clearly had a history ... and it wasn’t one that was full of roses and puppies.

  David didn’t speak again until Mel and Jared were seated in his office. He offered them refreshments, which they politely declined, and then turned to business. “If this is about something Cheryl said ... .”

  “What makes you think she’s the one who sent us here?” Mel queried.

  “We have what you would call a tempestuous relationship.”

  Jared figured that was a mild word for what these former lovers felt for each other. “We’re here to ask about your history with Carl Gibbons,” he supplied. “It’s our understanding that you didn’t like him.”

  “Would you like the man who basically bankrupted you?” David challenged. “I hate that guy. I make no bones about it. If he filed a complaint about the letter I sent him ... well ... I’m still not sorry. I meant everything I said in that letter. He’s a total bottom-feeder.”

  Jared exchanged a quick look with Mel and then adjusted his tack. “Sir, are you aware that Mr. Gibbons was murdered in his home yesterday?”

  David’s face went slack. “W-what?”

  “He’s dead,” Jared repeated. “He was stabbed inside his home.”

  “Are you kidding?”

  “We don’t generally make jokes about murder,” Mel replied dryly.

  “I see.” David steepled his fingers on his desk and then burst out laughing. It wasn’t the reaction Jared was expecting. “Oh, this is the best thing that’s happened in ... I don’t know how long. Please tell me he didn’t die right away. Did he linger? Did he suffer?”

  Jared was caught off guard by the CPA’s bloodthirsty reaction. “We don’t have the full medical examiner’s report yet. That seems unlikely, though.”

  “What a bummer.”

  Mel cleared his throat to get David’s attention. “You realize you’re a suspect in his murder because of your recent threats against him, right?”

  The smile disappeared from David’s face. “What threats? I didn’t make any threats.”

  “So ... you didn’t threaten to castrate the victim and feed his testicles to him?” Jared asked.

  “Oh, that.” David rolled his eyes, hard. “That was just normal venting. I didn’t really mean it. Do you have any idea how much money that guy cost me? Of course I was going to threaten him. He had it coming. He didn’t even seem bothered by it.”

  “I don’t think threatening to castrate someone is normal,” Mel countered.

  “Then you obviously haven’t been divorced.” David was back to smiling. “There’s nothing to get worked up about. I said that, but I didn’t follow-through. I mean ... what would be the point? It’s not as if killing him would get my money back. That’s all I care about.”

  His words made sense, which caused the ball of despair taking up residence in the pit of Jared’s stomach to return with a vengeance. “We’re still going to need to know your whereabouts last night.”

  “What time?”

  “Between ten and four.”

  “That’s a big window.”

  “We’ll be able to narrow it down later this afternoon. If you prefer waiting until then, that’s your prerogative.”

  “It doesn’t matter.” David leaned back in his chair and smirked. “For the first time since getting divorced, I feel lucky. I’m covered for all that time last night because I was with a woman.”

  Jared pictured the secretary. “Sassy?”

  “Oh, no. She dumped me when she realized Cheryl took all my money. It turns out she was only interested in me buying things for her. Go figure. I was with another woman.”

  “And who might that be?”

  “Sally Beaufort. She’s Sassy’s mother. I don’t think Sassy knows yet. I’m looking forward to her finding out, though.”

  Mel gulped down his disgust. “And you were with her all night?”

  “I was.” He bobbed his head. “It went well enough th
at I’m seeing her again tonight. Go ahead and give her a call. I have nothing to hide.”

  “We’ll check out your alibi.” Mel turned his rueful gaze to Jared, sympathy for his fellow detective’s plight rushing through him. “I’m sure we’ll be in touch.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.”

  HARPER WAS IN A PICKLE WHEN she landed on the street in front of Gibbons’s house. Police tape covered the front door, a stark warning that she wasn’t to enter the premises, but the ghost was most likely inside if he’d remained behind so she needed to cross the threshold if she expected to find him.

  “Well, that sucks,” she muttered as her mother and father joined her on the sidewalk.

  “What’s wrong?” Gloria readjusted her fur coat so the shoulders were square. “Do you see him already? If so, tell him I’m very mad at him.”

  “Oh, tell him I’m mad at him, too,” Phil intoned. “He should’ve watched himself better so we wouldn’t have to deal with this crap.”

  Harper rolled her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose to ward off an oncoming headache. “Why did you insist on coming with us again, Dad? It’s not that I’m not thrilled to be spending time with you or anything, but I am curious why you’re here. It doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.”

  Phil shot her a look. “If I’m not here, who is going to babysit the two of you? I don’t really care if your mother gets in over her head. You’re my daughter, though. It’s my job to take care of you.”

  “Since when?” Harper muttered under her breath.

  “I heard that.” Phil extended a warning finger. “I don’t need your lip, young lady. I was a good father to you. I went to all your school events ... and helped you with homework ... and took you fishing after your grandfather passed because you insisted it was necessary.”

  That was true, Harper realized. He did all those things. He also grilled any boy who had the guts to date her in high school, insisted she hide what she could do in case people laughed and pointed, and once threatened her with an asylum when she insisted they had a ghost living in their basement. That was true, although thankfully the ghost grew tired of listening to the elder Harlows fight and moved to a different house for some peace and quiet.

  “I’m sorry.” She held up her hands in mock capitulation as her father glared at her. “I wasn’t trying to be difficult. It’s just ... we’re making a spectacle of ourselves.” She pointed toward a set of moving curtains across the road. “I’m pretty sure we have an audience.”

  Gloria’s forehead wrinkled as she stared at the lacy curtains. “That’s Annette Foster’s house. She’s a busybody. Who cares what she thinks?”

  Harper found the question hilarious because her mother was the queen of caring what other people thought. “I think we should adjust our tones.” Harper was firm. “We don’t want to draw unnecessary attention to ourselves.”

  “The solution to that is going inside,” Phil suggested. “If we’re off the street, nobody will be looking at us.”

  “I’m with you on that,” Gloria said. “Let’s get out of this cold.”

  Harper snagged her mother’s arm before the woman could break any additional laws. “You can’t cross the police tape. We can be arrested if you try.”

  “Oh, that’s preposterous. I have a key.”

  “It’s still a crime scene.”

  “I don’t understand,” Phil said, his hands landing on his hips. “Why did we come out here if it’s not to head inside and talk to a ghost?”

  “We need to lure the ghost outside,” Harper replied. “We can’t go inside. Annette will call the cops if she sees us crossing that tape and Jared won’t be happy if he has to arrest me. That hasn’t happened since that first time and he still gets irritated when I bring it up.”

  “That’s because he’s a whiner,” Gloria supplied. “You shouldn’t hitch yourself to a whiner forever, Harper. That never ends well. I should know.” She cast a pointed look in Phil’s direction.

  “At least I’m not a murderer,” Phil shot back. “This whiner will be here in a few years when our first grandchild is born. I’ll be the one spending time with him or her — or them, most likely, since I think Harper and Jared are the types to have more than one child — and they won’t know who you are. You’ll just be that woman who is in prison for killing a divorce attorney.”

  “Stop saying that!” Gloria’s eyes filled with fury. “I’m going to make you cry if you don’t stop saying things like that.”

  “You’ve already made me cry quite enough for one lifetime.”

  Desperate to tune them out, Harper focused her attention on Gibbons’s side yard. She was almost positive she saw a hint of movement behind a bush at one point and she decided to focus there ... because anything was better than listening to her parents carry on.

  “I’m the one who did the crying, Phil,” Gloria argued. “You were a horrible husband.”

  “I was a catch compared to you,” Phil groused. “You were the devil in Prada heels. I mean ... seriously. Why won’t God just smite you and put you out of your misery?”

  Harper ignored the sniping and moved toward the big bush that hid most of Gibbons’s backyard. She was certain now that she’d seen movement and she was hopeful that movement belonged to a ghost. Otherwise, she was going to have to drink her lunch ... and that wasn’t a pretty picture.

  “Where are you going?” Phil called out.

  “I think he’s over here. You guys keep arguing over there. I’ll be back in a minute.” And, with that, Harper disappeared into the backyard and came face to face with a dead man.

  Six

  Harper was so thankful for a few moments of silence she didn’t bother looking over her shoulder to see if her parents were following. It seemed like too much effort.

  She was barely around the bush when she practically tripped through Carl’s ghost, who was watching her with eyes the size of saucers.

  “Oomph.”

  Harper slammed into a tree, although she was thankful for it because that meant she wouldn’t hit the ground, which was cold and frozen thanks to the storm.

  “Are you okay?” Carl reached out to help her and frowned when his hands passed through her body. “Oh, dear.”

  “That about sums it up,” Harper grumbled as she rubbed her cheek. She could feel a sore spot and was worried it would develop into a bruise she would have trouble explaining to Jared.

  “You’re dead,” Carl announced. He appeared relatively calm when delivering the words. “I’m sorry, my dear. You were so young.” He pressed his hand to his heart and looked to the sky, as if praying.

  “I’m not dead,” Harper countered. “You’re dead.”

  “No, you’re definitely dead. My hands went right through you.”

  “They did, but it’s because you’re dead and can’t touch the living. Wait … that kind of sounds dirty when I think about it. Scratch that. Let’s not talk about touching each other.”

  Carl ignored the outburst. He had other things on his mind. “I most certainly am not dead.” He looked to a spot over Harper’s shoulder and brightened considerably. “Here comes someone who will prove it to you. Oh, Gloria.” He adopted a smarmy smile. “Will you please tell this adorable, and sadly dead, young lady that I’m alive?”

  Gloria, of course, couldn’t see him so she didn’t respond. “Harper, you should announce when you’re going to take a detour through the snow.” She gestured toward her pants, which were covered with powdery white flakes. “My pants are now wet. You know how I feel about wet pants.”

  “Yes, the same way she feels about doing the dishes,” Phil muttered.

  “Gloria,” Carl sang out. “I’m talking to you.”

  Harper almost felt sorry for him when her mother continued ranting at her rather than him.

  “Why are we wading through the snow? I don’t like it. I’m already cold … and my coat is very unhappy.”

  Harper let loose a weary sigh. “I hate it when you pre
tend your coat has feelings, Mother.”

  “It does.”

  “Yes, but that just reminds me that it used to be made up of living animals.”

  “So did your suede boots.”

  Since she had a point, Harper decided to move on with the conversation. “Carl is here. I need you to shut up for a minute. We’re having a conversation.”

  Gloria frowned. “He’s here?” She glanced around, as if searching for proof. “Where?”

  Harper pointed toward him. “He’s upset. He thought I was dead and now he realizes it was him.”

  “Why would you be dead?”

  “He was just confused.”

  “Well, frankly, that’s rude.” She adopted a stern expression as she stared at the empty spot. “You need to tell Harper who killed you, Carl. It’s very important.”

  For his part, the already muddled ghost seemed more confused than ever. “I can’t be dead,” he complained, frustration positively wafting off him. “It’s impossible. I have too much life left to live.”

  “I’m sorry.” Harper tried to paste an earnest expression on her face, but it was so cold she had no doubt she woefully failed. “I do need you to try to think about your death, though. It’s important. What’s the last thing you remember?”

  “Thinking you were a ghost,” Carl snapped. “I was crushed by the thought, too. It’s not often a hot chick sneaks into my backyard. I thought maybe we could do ghostly stuff together and Gloria would be none the wiser.”

  Harper made a face. “That is really gross.”

  “How is it gross? It’s not really cheating if one of the people is dead. Speaking of that … can I still do stuff?”

  Harper’s stomach turned. “Are you joking?”

  “No. Why? Does it sound like I’m joking? I really want to know. Your answer could end up being extremely important to me.”

  Harper pursed her lips, disdain evident on her frigid features. “You realize that she’s my mother, right?”

  Carl was taken aback. “No. I … no.” He frowned. “Wait a second … how could she be your mother? She’s only forty-four. Are you the girl I met at dinner? I’m trying to remember. I don’t think I paid much attention. She must’ve had you when she was in middle school.”